


Forgiveness

by IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: 5 headcanons, Bedannibal - Freeform, F/M, Post Season 3, Post Stinger, but a happy ending, extremely short drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 21:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15850140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow/pseuds/IfMulderCouldSeeMeNow
Summary: 5 Bedannibal headcanons, post-season-3.Hannibal finds her in a resort-like rehabilitation center, and she’s both different and the same.





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the anon who sent me this 5 headcanon prompt on tumblr. Decided to post it here for people who don't use tumblr.

1.

She’s angry at herself for the feelings that ebb and flow through her body. Sadness. Disappointment. Most of all, betrayal. Although she never expected him to love her, for truly, he wasn’t capable, she thought he was at the very least fond of her. Tears bubble over her eyes, the first she’s cried in years. She  _does_ love him, and he has warped her love into a main course.

 

2.

Hannibal finds her in a resort-like rehabilitation center, and she’s both different and the same. Her arms have become toned, the muscles long and lean after months of strength training. She now walks with a cane and a slight limp, but he can quickly see that soon, it will be resolved; she’s set herself to the task. She is separated from the group of other clients by choice, relishing in her solitude.

“Bedelia,” he says softly, taking the chaise lounger next to the one she has become comfortable with. Up close he can see her freckles, something she denied him in Florence. 

She turns to him, her eyes covered and locked away under Gucci sunglasses. He expects a scornful remark, or quick-witted jab, but instead he notices a single tear slide down her face. 

Hannibal takes her hand in his and rubs the space between her forefinger and thumb. His apology is a nearly a croak, and she considers it for a moment. He said he would  _protect_ her, and yet, he vanished when she needed him most.

“You left me once.”

“I did,” he concedes regrettably

“Don’t do it again,” she whispers.

 

3.

As confident and self-assured as she fights to be, Hannibal notices her discomfort with dancing immediately. Once, she used to smile inwardly at his invitation, gliding across the floor laughing softly in his embrace. Now, she politely refuses each time. 

“What are you afraid of, Bedelia? Dancing is a skill, and  _you_ could never forget it.” It is both his attempt to gently joke and compliment her skill. After all, he would look absolutely foolish dancing without his companion.

“I’m afraid it won’t feel the same to  _me_.”

That night, after the festivities has long ended, he dims the light in their flat, and places a record on the player. Music begins to swim through the rooms and she places her glass of wine on the end table, a small smile on her lips.  _Her favorite song._

He offers his hand to her and she takes it with a soft laugh, almost embarrassed by the delight that warms her body. 

His hand is warm against her waist, and they gently sway, a hairsbreadth apart. Her head settles into it’s place on her chest and she hums deeply, content.

It feels better than before.  

 

4.

On the anniversary of his her attack, she holds him close as he cries, combing her fingers through his hair, running her nails lightly across his scalp.They lay in the clawfoot bathtub, her back against the copper and her arms wrapped around him.

She takes a washcloth and dips it into the soapy suds, lathering it before she runs it over his chest. Her breasts are warm against his back. 

“I thought I lost you,” he admits, his voice deep and throaty.

“But you didn’t,” she reassures, her voice in the shell of his ear. “I’m still here.”

He takes her hand in his and plants a kiss against her knuckles, his lips lingering there as he takes in the feel and smell of her skin.

 

5.

Silver has begun to slide through her glistening hair, and he takes a lock between his fingers. She is beautiful. 

She’s resting in his arms, breathing slowly and deeply. After a day of exploring the city, he understands her exhaustion. Her prosthetic rests next to the bed, and he thinks of her strength and determination.

He has many regrets. Mostly though, he wishes he had stayed with her and lived this life long before she suffered so much pain. He thinks of her capacity for forgiveness; she had freely given it to him. 

He leans in closer to her then, taking in the smell of her hair, his eyes closing in anticipation of slumber. He has built a comfortable life with her here, one that he had never thought was possible for himself. His words are sleep-laden, but he must tell them to her, even if she had already fallen away from him and into a deep slumber. 

“I know you will never believe me, but it’s been far too long since I’ve told you” he pauses, his breath hot against her ear. His arm is wrapped around her waist, fingers splayed above her pubic bone. “I love you, Bedelia”

“I believe you” she breathes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you have a prompt, sent me a message and I'll try my best! :)


End file.
